// how can we a-r-t-iculate an experience that refuses to be neatly contained _ refuses to be neatly explained // can an outward expression _ever_ replicate the inner most _intimate_ cry of a heart bro-ken // are there words enough _ ever_ to untangle and lay b-a-r-e the visceral longing for a carefree warmth that has dis-appeared _  a longing in our b-l-o-o-d // how can we keep something close when the concept of close has been t-o r-n up // how can we paint a proper goodbye _ full of sorrow _ anger_ joy_ a goodbye etched with l-o v-e //

2_edited.jpg

Touching Palms with Grief

Grief is often thought of as the experience we go through after someone dies. While much of my own personal understanding is rooted in this, grief can take many shapes. It the response to a loss of any kind. The loss of a relationship, or the loss of a home. The realisation that we never had what we needed when we were growing up, or that our hopes are unlikely to materialise. The loss of identity. The loss of safety or support. Things that are personal to us, or losses taking place at a collective level. 

 

We all go through seasons of grief. It is a core part of being human. And yet, many of us are hesitant to acknowledge it, speak of it, feel it. We don’t have the tools, perhaps, or we are scared it will be too much to bear. And so it gets stuck.

 

When we carry unprocessed grief, we may struggle to move from the past to the future. The experience can be thought of as a dark cocoon. Easier to run from or hide, but vital if we want to move from fear to trust and let our dreams unfold.

 

Touching Palms with Grief does not seek to neatly articulate this vast and nuanced experience, but gently touch on the topic and create space for people to safely unravel in their own time. To create space where we can come to terms with our realities, move through what needs to be felt, and be connected through this.